Tag: INFJ

When contemplating change, in addition to traditional INFJ (over)analyzing, I pay attention to the world around me, which I believe sends me signs. I don’t go looking for signs — that defeats the purpose. But if something comes my way, and I see / hear / experience it, and it makes my brain go, “Look! A SIGN!” then I take notice. I contemplate then what the sign may be trying to tell me and where it fits into the contemplating process.

I just did this, right? I know they put some kind of fancy photo-taking pseudo-scientist robot on Mars, but I think they also must have done something to the space-time continuum. November cannot be over already! Alas, my paper calendars (yes, plural) tell me ’tis true. November, like the Autumn that has morphed too quickly into Winter, I barely knew ye (and apparently, I barely knew old English because the first time I typed that, I wrote yee).

AND on top of everything else, I’m writing this post in the evening on November 30, when I meant to write it earlier today (or actually earlier this week then tidy today and post). *le sigh*

Anyway, let’s pause — seriously, is there a pause button for days/weeks/months? Can someone invent that, please? — and take a look back at the month just passed as it comes to an end.

As an INFJ, I spend a lot of time gathering information and intel (consciously and sub so), and also analyzing/questioning/pondering, etc. I do a lot of this silently so most people wouldn’t notice my brain is constantly playing 20 questions / 1,000,000 answers. Sometimes, though, my brain gives me a break and I only think, like, half as much as usual and contemplate silly things that make me laugh. Lucky you, today is that day.

As the great musical poet Kiki Dee once said, “I’ve got the music in me.” Seriously, music is part of my daily life, so I participate in Song Lyric Sunday. This week’s theme is listen.Continue reading “Song Lyric Sunday: Listen”→

I’m off tomorrow, of my own choosing (yay, vacation days!). That makes this weekend three days long! And that also makes today, Thursday, my Friday. It’s flying by at a snail on a sloth with a broken leg break-neck speed.

“What I want is songs that echo. The stuff we’re doing now is like somebody’s bed sheets: spread ’em out, soil ’em, ship ’em out to laundry, you know? But our songs…I want us to be able to fold ourselves up in them forever… understand? That’s the most you’ll ever get out of me Wordman. Ever.”